Childish words desperate for sophistication in a mother's heels and pearls
Searching for authentic but coming up years too short.

A bitter pill to swallow, incompetence.
Not for lack of pain or power, but a search in vain.

Vanity is right. To want soft words that echo in others hearts is indulgent
Unnecessary. Unattainable.

But still I write as a toddler outside the lines, with no direction or skill, desperately searching for a prettier picture to emerge from the mess.

Stick figures pierce my tongue and
words ring uncomfortably in my mind.
A jigsaw puzzle with no edges and one hand tied behind my back.